


The Human Concept of an "Anniversary"

by LumenInFusco



Series: Femslash Friday [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F, Fourth Wall, Mild Sexual Content, POV Kanaya Maryam, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 08:26:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6366778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LumenInFusco/pseuds/LumenInFusco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>365 days have passed since Kanaya and Rose began dating, which according to Kanaya's xenocultural understandings, would mean that today is what humans refer to as their "anniversary".</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Human Concept of an "Anniversary"

      The first beam of sunlight shines into your bedroom. Typically, you are not awake in time to witness this event, but today marks a special occasion. One that has evidently filled you with so much anticipation that you simply could not wait for the sun.

      Rose told you of a customary event of some auspiciousness on her homeworld known as an “anniversary”, whereby matesprits commemorate the Earth calendar day in which they first became romantically involved. While the human concept of “years” has not yet fully integrated itself into your xenocultural lexicon, the simple reality of a human year’s brevity relative to a sweep means you get to celebrate sooner, and more frequently, beginning with today.

      Which is to say, today is your anniversary with Rose. And you are excited, to say the least.

      You turn your head away from the window and look at your still-sleeping girlfriend. It feels like only yesterday that she stole that drunken first kiss from you. The memory has become an embarrassing one for her, but you will always treasure it, even if you must do so in secret. The taste of her lipstick as she sloppily pressed her lips against yours, the way her arms clumsily coiled around your body, and the impromptu trip down the stairs that immediately followed, it couldn’t have been less romantic. And in your mind, that’s what made it unique.

      Enough reminiscing. It’s time to wake her up, if she’s going to have time to enjoy the elaborate romantic breakfast you have planned. You lean in to her face and gently kiss her forehead.

      She stirs and mumbles indistinctly.

      “Good morning, Rose,” you say just above a whisper.

      She winces slightly at the sound of her name. “Mm. Mornin’ Kanaya,” she manages without opening her eyes.

      You, of course, are absolutely no worse for the wear. “Did you sleep well?”

      “About the same as always,” she yawns. “And yourself?”

      “Quite well,” you say warmly. “Though, I must admit, I am quite eager for this day to begin.”

      Rose props herself up on her elbows. “Oh? And what’s so special about today?”

      You blink in mild shock. “Don’t tell me that you’ve forgotten what today is!”

      Her brow furrows in thought. “Well, it’s Friday,” she observes, “which means it’s Karkat’s movie night. And it’s the second Friday of the month, which means Vriska is on Dream Bubble watch, so that usually means that Terezi will be doing arts and crafts with the Mayor to pass the time.” She makes eye contact with you and you notice the corner of her lips curl into a subtle smile, no doubt interpreting the growing annoyance in your expression. She continues: “Which means Dave will most likely be free for Freestyle Checkers tonight.”

      “Freestyle Checkers?” you repeat, briefly distracted.

      “A thoroughly predictable variant on Checkers that’s intended to fuse the game with his love of beat poetry. It’s surprisingly fun, actually.”

      You stare at her somewhat incredulously. Surely, she hasn’t actually forgotten, has she? Between her keen awareness of all the other mundanities she just listed, and with her generally fastidious attention to detail and pattern recognition, surely she must know that today is your anniversary.

      “Why?” she asks. “What do you have planned?”

      A thought occurs to you.

      Karkat’s extensive study of human romantic literature and his ebullient willingness to share his insight with anyone remotely within earshot has alerted you to the existence of a particular trope often found therein. Typically, someone will play at having forgotten an important date, such as a birthday or an anniversary, to the end of priming a loved one for a surprise coming later in the day. And if there’s anyone you can think of who would employ deception as a means of affection, it is absolutely this person sharing your bed right now.

      You quickly decide that two can play at that game.

      “Oh, nothing special,” you say.

      “So, to recap, you’re quite eager for this day to begin, so that you can do nothing special, and you want to make sure I haven’t forgotten what day it is so that I’m aware that you intend to do nothing special.”

      Oh yes. She is most certainly fucking with you.

      “Astute as always, my dear.”

      “Well, I must admit that your enthusiasm for the utterly trivial is…curiously enviable.”

      “Rose, I hardly believe that one who has kept record of which human day of the week it is for the purpose of minding a completely arbitrary activity schedule is any position to criticize anyone for ‘enthusiasm for the utterly trivial’.” You smile confidently. Ms. Lalonde will absolutely not be getting the better of you on THIS day.

      “Who said I was criticizing? If anything, it’s infectious.” She begins to roll herself into an upright position. “Shall we begin doing nothing special, then?”

      “We shall!”

      You shall indeed.

* * *

      The elaborate romantic breakfast you had planned would have to be delayed into an elaborate romantic lunch now, and you may have to postpone the fashion exhibition that was originally slated for the afternoon, but you don’t really mind. After all, the opportunity to best Rose in a duel of wits is quite possibly the best anniversary gift she could have given you.

      You absolutely WILL ensure that she springs her surprise before you spring yours. Even though yours wasn’t supposed to be a surprise. But that’s okay. Really.

      Having said all of that, of course, she certainly seems to be taking her dear sweet time.

      The two of you haven’t spent much of the day together up until this point. You had decided that she would need some time and space to prepare whatever it is that she had planned, and for your part, you had to go to some lengths to ensure that your own plans had been appropriately concealed.

      You catch a glimpse of her as the two of you pass each other in one of this meteor’s many corridors. “Hello, Rose,” you say.

      “Hello, Kanaya,” she responds, as she continues her pace opposite yours.

      Another thought occurs to you.

      Just as you’re aware of this pretending-to-forget trope, surely she must be even MORE aware of it! After all, the whole notion was borne of her culture, with which she is most assuredly more familiar than you. Given that it’s almost noon, she must be on to you by now. She must know that you’re also pretending to forget what day today is, and thus, is committed to steeling herself against whatever surprise she knows that you surely have planned for this day. Perhaps she’s tailoring her own surprise to complement her assumptions about what yours must be. She must be waiting for you to lay your cards on the table before she’s willing to do the same.

      You turn to look back at her, and see that she has already turned to look back at you.

      That look in her eyes. Wicked. Gleaming. Hungry, even. The last time she looked at you with those eyes was two weeks ago, mere seconds before she rushed to you, pinning you against the wall by your wrists and burying her face into your—

      You beg your pardon. A modest, sophisticated woman such as yourself does not share these private moments with anyone. Not even omniscient narrators who, in addition to already having complete, comprehensive knowledge of all the lurid details, may even be responsible for their formation and execution in the first place. No, not even with them.

      Oh, she’s _good._ She definitely knows that you have a surprise cooking.

      But in realizing this, you also realize that you once again have the upper hand. Because now, you know that she knows, and that knowledge has strengthened your resolve to be the one to hold out this bluff the longest between you two. Oh yes. Now, more than ever, you are primed to win this duel and collect the spoils.

      You smile with what you’re confident is an appropriate display of faux innocence.

      You’re not exactly certain when this anniversary became a contest, but you are certain that it’s one you’re poised to win.

* * *

      Well, that elaborate romantic lunch will have to be an elaborate romantic dinner now. Assuming that part of Rose’s surprise isn’t also an elaborate romantic meal of some kind. Fortunately, you haven’t eaten much today, so hopefully you should be able to stomach two elaborate romantic dinners, though you may have to pace yourself somewhat. Similarly, you’ve had to remove a few outfits from the fashion exhibition in order to make time for whatever other activities she has planned. And the photo album you’ve compiled from your various escapades in the dream bubbles will have to be hastily recapped.

      But all of that is fine, really. Perfectly, absolutely, 100% fine. You feel very assured in the fineness of these circumstances.

      Alright, so maybe you’re getting a little restless. Restless enough for a quick look around the common rooms, you think. Actually, that’s probably a really good idea, as it follows that the payoff of this ruse relies on you entering a room to a chorus of “SURPRISE”. Perhaps this is exactly the opportunity that she needs to fold first on this game you have found yourself playing.

      You begin your search in the reading room.

      You also end your search in the reading room, given that that’s exactly where she is. Just sitting there, in her favorite chaise, leaned to one side, seemingly enjoying a book.

      You must admit, you’re taken somewhat aback. If not the surprise itself, you were expecting to at least find her putting the finishing touches on the surprise. Or even behaving in a manner that could conceivably be conceived as suspicious. But instead, you find her here, reading, as if it were any other day. It almost feels as though this perfectly innocent act is the most suspicious one conceivable.

      If she noticed that you’d entered the room, she’s certainly not acting like it.

      Yet another thought occurs to you.

      When you had deduced that she was onto the fact that you were only pretending to have forgotten your anniversary, it was only inevitable that she, too, would have made a similar deduction. After all, in the time you’ve spent as a couple, the two of you have developed an understanding of each other that borders on the purely intuitive. It stands to reason that shortly after you caught on to the fact that she was on to you, that she would, in turn, catch on to the fact that you’re on to her being on to you being on to her.

_Of course._

      And to think, you were mere moments away from giving up on this game entirely and surprising her with anniversary celebrations! But not now. No, you won’t be giving her the satisfaction. At least, not this particular kind of satisfaction. But you’re still not divulging those details. However much you may be thinking about them. Which might be a lot. It’s been a long day. An agonizingly long day. Agonizing in a manner similar to how one might intentionally draw out the completion of a climactic moment, to the end of maximizing the intensity of the inevitable—

      It seems possible that the anticipation of this day is continuing to take its toll on your psyche.

      But that’s alright. To claim final victory in this situation will make everything worth it. Once again, the advantage is yours, and you’re absolutely determined to hold onto it this time.

      You quietly slip out of the room, allowing Rose to believe that she’s successfully fooled you into thinking that she hasn’t noticed you.

* * *

      Is there such thing as an elaborate romantic bedtime snack? And if not, would having one make you and Rose bold pioneers in the front of anniversary celebration activities? Given that both of your respective people’s populations have been reduced to single digits, you suppose that the answers to these questions do not matter terribly much, but you’re focusing on this anyway to keep your patience in check.

      Still another thought occurs to you.

      But this time you disregard it.

      It’s bedtime. And there she is, in bed. Leaning against the headboard, book resting against her bent legs under the covers.

_How dare she._

      You are as exasperated as you are exhausted. Right up until the moment you changed into your nightclothes, you feel as though you had put up an admirable performance. But now, seeing as she’s beaten you to the bed, you are finally prepared to admit defeat.

      “Rose, I can’t take this anymore.”

      She looks up from her book. “I beg your pardon?”

      “Happy Anniversary, Rose. I can’t keep pretending that I’ve forgotten any longer. And now the day is over, and I’m too tired to execute on all of the plans I had made for today, so that’s it. You win.”

      Rose blinks a few times, mouth agape. “Kanaya, I…” her voice cracks slightly as her lips form an embarrassed smile. “I…completely forgot what day it was.”

      Oh hell no. She is NOT going to drag this out any further. “Rose, please. You don’t have to carry on the façade any longer. I know that you were only pretending to have forgotten in order to preserve the surprise of whatever it is that you have planned, and that you knew that I knew that you were only pretending. But this day has been incredibly long and my propensity for this sort of thing isn’t nearly as refined as yours likely due to a lack of opportunity to practice owing largely to cultural dispar—“ you take a deep breath and sigh. “Rose. Happy Anniversary.”

      Rose has closed her mouth at this point, looking as if she’s seconds away from exploding with laughter. However, you also detect something unexpected being betrayed in her expression.

      Is that…guilt? Genuine guilt?

      “Kanaya, with god as my witness and with all my heart, I solemnly swear that I am not, now or at any prior point during the day, playing mind games with you. I had nothing planned for today. I honestly believed that today was just another day.”

      You suddenly become aware of your own labored breathing. You can’t really describe how you’re feeling right now, but if that omniscient narrator from earlier were to take a swipe at it, she might say that you are partly relieved, more partly hurt, but mostly just confused. Yes, that would absolutely be her appraisal of your feelings at this moment.

      You’re not sure why you’ve decided that this fictitious narrator is female. God, you’re tired.

      Rose continues, her expression having become significantly more solemn. “I’m truly sorry to have forgotten, and to have ruined what were the surely wonderful plans that you had for today.” She smiles hopefully. “As restitution for my absentmindedness, may I offer a suggestion?”

      Your lips are pursed as you watch her lay her book down on the side of the bed. “You may,” you answer.

      “How about tomorrow, we do every single thing that you had planned, as if tomorrow were today.” She rolls herself over on the bed, resting on her hands and knees. “I promise you that none of your efforts will go to waste. And afterwards…” She crawls towards you and leans her head in to your left shoulder. You feel yourself involuntarily shudder as she purrs: “Afterwards, I’ll show you exactly how much you mean to me.” She accents her meaning by softly kissing just below your ear. “By any…means…necessary,” she says between kisses.

      You can’t keep yourself from smiling. “I don’t know, Rose. I had a LOT planned for today, and you’re being quite vague.” You wrap your arms loosely about her neck, interlocking your fingers behind her. “I think you might have to define your terms…somewhat more clearly.”

      “Then allow me…” Her voice trails off as her right hand begins to slide down the side of your abdomen. “Happy Anniversary, my love…”

* * *

      You are now ROSE LALONDE.

      You look over to Kanaya, passed out and lying completely askew on her side of the bed. You smile, taking a moment to admire your handiwork before reaching over your side to retrieve your book.

      You make a mental note that when you had explained your homeworld’s calendar to your alien girlfriend, you had neglected to include any explanation of leap years. You will have to rectify that, and soon. Not tomorrow, obviously, but it would be best that she hear about it from you sooner than she might inadvertently hear about it from Dave.

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks, once again, to dietcokeenthusiast for beta-reading this, and for inspiring me to make a point of writing and uploading more frequently.
> 
> This fic marks the first story of something I'm going to be trying from here on out: Femslash Friday! It's exactly what it sounds like: Every Friday, a new femslash fic from me. I am super excited to be getting way more active with my various ships! Now granted, this one comes a day late, so we'll call this particular one "Sapphic Saturday" and in time forget this delay ever happened.


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